


The Aftermath

by airsalonpasandpettysquabbles



Series: Fiends to Friends [2]
Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-10-30 06:29:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20810075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airsalonpasandpettysquabbles/pseuds/airsalonpasandpettysquabbles
Summary: Chapter One from different perspectives as well as its continuation...





	The Aftermath

Merlin was confused. He knew Jim was dead, but he couldn't even feel his soul, which was odd for the wizard. He was out of touch with his magic, but he didn't think he was _this_ out of touch. Normally he could feel an aura, a ball of energy that reflected the soul of the fallen. However, he felt nothing, absolutely nothing in Jim's limp body. An empty corpse left bereft of a spirit. So where had that spirit gone?

Had Morgana stolen his soul? That was impossible, but her skills were more honed into darker magic, so it wasn't entirely improbable... but what would she get out of a soul? A sixteen-year old's soul, on top of that. Following that question, there was the flowing factor of time, something she would have not had, something necessary to accomplish an endeavor as tremendous as stealing someone's very essence.

Maybe Jim didn't have a soul, but yet again, that was even more absurd than the first theory. So who else could have taken his soul? It couldn't be humans or mere trolls, for that matter. The only kind of _special_ under Arcadia was the Trollhunter lore, and even then, Jim was the hunter in question, so it couldn't have been anyone. Unless...

He found his theory slipping away as the world went black.

* * *

Toby was devastated.

Jim had been his best friend since before he could remember, and now he was gone. They had done everything together, courting death recently slapped onto the list, but all those moments seemed whisked away the moment he stopped breathing. He _couldn't_, not after all they've been through together. He couldn't just leave him all alone. He couldn't just leave _them _all alone. Not now. Not ever.

He was only sixteen. He had barely seen the world. He had barely touched it. His book of life was small, yet big: its yellowed pages filled with his many exploits and adventures. His book of life now came to an abrupt halt, ending the novel mid-sentence. 

It just wasn't fair.

* * *

Barbara woke up in her bed, feeling strangely rested for once. It took a while for the memories to kick in.

_Jim._

She sat up and yanked the covers off her body. Shouldering the sudden onslaught of nausea, she crammed her brain for something, anything to reassure her that it was all just a bad dream. Unfortunately, the images in her head were quite vivid.

She found her house—_their _house—empty. Empty of her child. Empty of joy. 

The wall was hard and unforgiving, the floor cold and merciless, but she slid to the very bottom and cried. She cried over pointless wars and endless battles, understanding the past more than she ever had. She cried over loss and injustice. She cried, praying that her son lived a better life wherever he was now.

* * *

When everyone woke up, it was noticed that there were extra pieces to the puzzle. The Hearthstone was full and brilliant and intact. The ones considered dead were very much alive—Draal and Vendel were dearly welcomed, Angor Rot, not so much. But he had redeemed himself by saving Jim.

Everything was back to normal. All except for Jim. Jim who was not buried, but preserved in a magic coma made fabricated by Merlin's newly _earned_ magic. His body would not decompose. But, it would seem, that he would never wake up. Hidden away from the public, but closely guarded by friends, Jim would remain in Trollmarket forever. At least, it was supposed to go that way.


End file.
